


Of Diamonds and Baritones

by captaintinymite (augopher)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Christmas, Christmas Choir, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Derek loves Christmas movies, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Jeweler Derek Hale, Lonely Derek, M/M, Pining Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Sings, The Hales own a jewelry store
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 08:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5369114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/augopher/pseuds/captaintinymite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Managing his family's jewelry store in the mall came with long hours, but it had its perks. The biggest upside? He could hear the music of the Beacon Hills First Responders Christmas Choir while he worked. He was painfully single and hopelessly in love with Deputy Stilinski, lead baritone.</p><p>Too bad he lacked the courage to do anything about it. Sometimes, though, the universe has other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Diamonds and Baritones

Derek stared down at the glass case while his current customer waxed poetically about the way his girlfriend’s eyes sparkled. Every year it was the same. He’d put in long hours at the family store, watching dozens if not hundreds of men come in and put down lots of hard earned cash so they could buy what they would profess to be the perfect engagement ring; it really was almost always men (maybe one in fifty were women, bold and intrepidly proposing to their boyfriends or girlfriends). And every year he’d sigh when he locked up for the night, flipping off the lights inside Hale’s Diamonds and shuffle home to his empty apartment.

Alone.

It hurt in more ways than he’d ever be able to explain to his family. The routine had long since grown stale, but he’d been doing it now for almost ten years save for the spare date here and there. Years now, he’d watched his older sister, Laura get married, have a couple kids. He watched  _both_  of his younger siblings, Cora and Dominic find the loves of their lives, while he was only just Derek at Christmas dinner. No plus one. Nothing.

The problem was, as he looked up to gaze, lovesick, out across the Beacon Hills Mall, he had found someone. He woke up every morning, telling himself that today would be the day, today would be the day he’d finally do something about it.

He never did.

Four years ago, the mall--or more accurately, the mayor-- thought it would be a wonderful idea to have the Beacon Hills First Responders Christmas Choir perform five days a week for a charity fundraiser. To be fair, it was a wonderful fundraiser, funded all of the city food banks for the year. Every day, the store would turn off the canned crap his sisters called Christmas music while the choir performed, and the shop would fill with the warm and uplifting sounds of live music.

Years ago, seven to be precise, and Derek would never forget the day--it was a Tuesday in July. He’d just received his business management degree with a minor in family business and entrepreneurship and returned home to work his way up to managing the store--when this kid with eyes like a new fawn, skin the color of porcelain, and hair with too much product came into the store. In his hands was an old pocket watch. Upon closer look, Derek could see he was older than his first glance would have him believe

Derek, once he’d picked his jaw up from where it had smacked upon the display case, mentally prepared his speech on how they did not do watch repair at the store, that he would be safer taking a trusted heirloom to a watch repair store. However, the kid, Stiles, as he soon learned, simply showed him the broken chain on it and asked if they had a suitable once to replace it. He’d been going through his late mother’s things because his father, the Sheriff, had decided to downsize to a condo and just didn’t have it in him to sort through those boxes. Tucked away, inside an old velvet box, had been this watch.

The inscription, well-worn, read ‘ _Ściskam mocno, Józka_ ’,  and the watch had been his grandfather’s, a gift from his grandmother for their wedding. It didn’t seem like a thing that should be parted with. Derek helped him find the nicest chain in his budget (far nicer than he could afford, but he didn’t need to know Derek gave up any commission he made on the sale to give him the deal). Stiles left that day with a smile on his face, and Derek was smitten. He’d see him around town a few times a month, passing each other on the street; they’d stop and chat, maybe have coffee. Once, he even came in with his best friend to help shop for engagement rings. Stiles always remained friendly, but it seemed that was all, nothing more.

Derek, however, was another story. With each meeting, he fell a little more for the young man with eyes the color of the chocolate diamonds he sometimes sold.  The one whose laugh had this way of seeking out the dark and lonely spaces of Derek’s heart like a missile and fracturing the ice that had wrapped around it. If Derek were a braver man in the matters of the heart, he’d have the courage to do something, to say something.

Yet, it wasn’t until the choir began singing at the mall that Derek became truly hopeless.

He’d been walking back from Starbucks, holding a full drink carrier in each hand, when he’d passed him. Though older and in a freshly pressed Sheriff’s department uniform, Stiles had the same effect on Derek that he’d had that very first day, even after three years. He stopped to listen, and by the end of Stiles’ solo in ‘Ave Maria’ he’d been moved to tears. There was no way for him to just go back to the way he’d been before he’d heard him sing.

Laura liked to say he was a walking romantic cliche, ‘ _Voice of an angel? Really, Derek_?’, but it had been the truth. That was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, and leave it to him to fall in love in the span of four minutes.

“I think that, if you’re looking for something a little bit more unique than the princess cut, the cushion cut might be just perfect for her,” Derek removed a tray of rings from the case, “especially with the pavė setting around the ring.”

The customer scratched his chin. “No, I think I will go with the princess solitaire you showed me in the beginning, the one karat.”

Derek gave the man his best (and fakest) smile. “Certainly, Cora will get you squared away.”

He hurried to get into the office where he found Laura laughing. “Why do they always go for the predictable? I can always tell the ones that will pick the boring solitaire setting. It’s usually the same two cuts, too. They waltz in here under the guise that they want something truly special, and fall back on the standards.”

Laura rolled her eyes at him. “They call them standards for a reason.”

“Why? It’s boring.”

“Says the man who will never be purchasing a diamond engagement ring.”

He clutched at his heart. “You wound me, Laura. I might.”

She rose from her chair and patted his shoulder. “No, you won’t, because you are going to continue to pine for Deputy Stiles, lead baritone of the choir.”

“Just you wait. This will be the year I do something about it.”

With a laugh she shoved him out of the office. “Go on. Go enjoy your lunch break. You get grumpy when you haven’t eaten in awhile.”

 

***

 

Derek sipped from his cup of coffee, listening to the choir’s rendition of ‘Mele Kalikimaka’. Though he loved the traditional songs and the way they filled the space, he liked it when they sang more contemporary music, too. They seemed to have an endless supply of carols to choose from.

Two bites into his sandwich, Stiles finally noticed him sitting in his usual spot by the fountain and gave a little wave, one which Derek returned in kind. Since he’d been late getting to break, they were a few songs away from the end of their first set. So, he ate, enamored as always, letting the melodies get under his skin and chase away his loneliness. At least for a little while.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite jewelry store manager in this place,” Stiles said, coming to sit beside him, a paper cup of Throat Coat clutched in his hands. Derek hated the way the tea smelled, but as Stiles put it, it helped keep his vocal chords in tip top shape for the season. ‘ _They need me, Derek. Haven’t you noticed how weak this choir is at the bottom?_ ’

He hadn’t noticed, but apparently the choir had way too many high tenors.

“Stiles, we are the lone jewelry store in the mall, which makes me the only jewelry store manager.”

Stiles pointed at him. “Wrong. There is a little boutique that sells handmade glass bead stuff. But you missed the point. Still my favorite,” he said with a smile.

Derek could feel the heat rising to his cheeks and quickly dipped his chin to hide his blush. “Thanks. You sound good today. I liked your solo in that last one.”

He grimaced. “Oh God. Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, leaning forward.

“Secret’s safe with me.”

Derek tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered when Stiles patted his knee. “That’s why I like you. Discretion is a valuable quality. Anyway...I really hate that song, dude.”

“That’s a classic though. Lot’s of people like ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside.’ I-”

Stiles threw his head back and laughed. Derek stared transfixed at the way the lights above shone on his face, casting little shadows on his cheeks where the beams hit his lashes. “Man, that song is pretty much ‘Blurred Lines’ for the 1940’s.”

“Huh,” Derek scratched his chin, “you’re right. The lyrics are pretty problematic, now that you mention it.”

Stiles held out his cup, and Derek tapped his own against it.

“What are we toasting?”

“Happy Friday!” Stiles said with a smirk. “Are you coming to the big concert on the twenty-third?”

The big concert was the last show of the season, and instead of performing during the afternoon the way the choir did every other day, it was an evening performance. Though anyone could attend (hard to close off part of the mall on one of the busiest shopping days of the year), if you purchased a ticket, there was a catered meal, drinks and t-shirt. It was one of the few evenings Derek specifically requested off. “Of course. Haven’t missed one yet.”

“Your continued support is important to me.”

“I can’t tell if that was sarcasm or you being serious.”

Stiles bumped into his shoulder. “Serious.”

“Well, the food is always top-notch.”  _You’re an idiot, Derek. You know that? Blue ribbon, first class idiot_. He silently scolded himself as Stiles launched into a story of how the laundry room in his building flooded last night, which segued into how he once used Dawn in the dishwasher. Apparently, there was a bubble explosion. True to form, his stories included emphatic hand gestures and casual touches just to make sure he was getting his point across.

Stiles had no idea the effect they had on him, and that effect was devastating, the way his heart first got hopeful and then came to a crashing halt when his head talked him out of saying the words that had been hanging on the tip of his tongue for four years now.

His break flew by the way it always did in Stiles’ company, a tragedy in and of itself, and Derek walked back to the store just as forlorn as he’d been when he left. Cora didn’t understand how he could possibly be in love with someone who made him miserable, and Derek couldn’t begin to explain that Stiles didn’t make him miserable;  _not_ being with Stiles was making him miserable.

 

***

 

And so it continued. Five days a week, Derek would take his lunch break in the rotunda in the middle of the mall and fall more disgustingly in love with Stiles, his courage to do anything about it, dwindling with each day. He wished he knew why he couldn’t get his head out of his ass. He guessed having his heart thoroughly broken by Kate had scarred him for life. Then again, he supposed that learning your ex cut your brake lines and then almost killing half your family while driving said car with broken brake lines would give anyone trust issues. Thank goodness no one had been seriously hurt.

“Enough of this, little brother,” Laura said as she filed invoices. “You are going to go down there today, and after listening to him serenade you with yet another hackneyed Christmas tune, you are going to profess your undying love for him. I can’t watch you pine anymore.”

“He isn’t serenading me.”

“Fiiiiine,” she whined, “you and a hundred other people.”

“Not helping.”

She stepped out from behind the display case and hugged him. “I just want you to be happy. You know that right?”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to him today.”

He didn’t.

Instead, he watched the choir sing a rousing rendition of ‘Sleigh Ride’ as he ate his Caesar salad, an ache spreading throughout his chest. Sure his face conveyed the depths of his lovesickness, he simply stared down at his lunch, doing everything he could to avoid meeting Stiles’ gaze.

He felt like crying, unsure how much more of this he could take. How could he sit and watch day after day, listen to that beautiful voice and the way it made him feel that everything might just be okay for once, all while being painfully unable to make a move? The simple answer was that he couldn’t. The long and more complicated answer started with a subconscious need to punish himself for Kate and ended somewhere with a slow burning self-loathing.

See, Dr. Sandoval? He had been listening to everything said in those countless therapy sessions over the years.

“You okay?”

Derek looked up from his oh-so-interesting salad to see Stiles standing in front of him, eyes full of concern. He’d seen that look a few times over the years, but it was usually directed at his dad. When he was worried, a little crease formed between Stiles’ brows as he drew them together. It was endearing. He hadn’t even noticed the singing had stopped. “I guess I’m just not feeling well today.

“Do you want some tea? I know you think it smells bad, but I would be more than happy to share if it will make you feel better,” Stiles said, sitting beside him and patting his knee.

“No, thank you.”

“Well, I hope you feel better. You still coming tomorrow night?”

Derek gave him a little smile. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“I hope not. The department got new dress blues. I think I look pretty damn dashing in the new uniform. Can’t wait to show it off.”

The ‘ _to whom_ ’ niggled at the back of his mind, but he kept silent about it.

“You’re dressing up?”

“Yeah, but not much different than my usual work attire. So nothing special, I guess.”

Stiles leaned into his side; Derek could feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of his uniform. He offered little in the way of conversation, and yet, Stiles seemed content to sit with him in companionable silence. He was grateful for it, especially because he knew how much silences drove him mad.

 

***

 

When he pushed open the door to his apartment that night, he called out into the empty space the way he always did. “Hey, I’m home.”

There was no answer; there never was, but sometimes, he allowed himself to hope that he’d walk through the door and a bright voice would ask him how his day was. The sound of the cap popping off the bottle of beer he plucked from the fridge offered little comfort. He tried to lose himself in yet another Hallmark Channel holiday movie in the hope it would alleviate his malaise, but even the plight of a little girl dying of cancer and the town throwing her an early Christmas (newsflash: she didn’t die) did no wonders on his mood.

While he showered off the remains of the day, he found himself humming ‘Ave Maria,’ and when he crawled into bed at the horribly late hour of nine o’clock, he let himself break down at how badly the loneliness in his life hurt.

 _No more_ , he thought. Tomorrow, he would either tell Stiles or let him go. He couldn’t keep living like this.

 

***

 

Derek fiddled with the cufflinks on his dress shirt, looking around the crowded rotunda in the mall. The twenty foot tree, decorated with hundreds of glass snowflake ornaments, sparkled like a diamond or a star in the night sky, twinkling lights catching the facets just so. The pleasing aroma of mulled cider, spiked with brandy, filled his nostrils and gave him a sense of home. From the railings on the second floor, boughs of fresh garland were draped and lent an air of tradition to the space, in addition to the wintery scent of pine. Near the stage, sat rows of chairs, one of them-- number C13--matched the one on his ticket, an aisle seat where he could see Stiles perfectly, assuming they kept the same arrangement on the risers as they had every performance. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if they changed things up.

“There you are,” his mother said, catching him by the elbow. She handed him a glass of cider and offered a treat from her plate. “Canapé?”

He plucked a candied fig from the plate and popped it into his mouth. The sweetness of the honey balanced nicely with the saltiness of the roasted pistachios and creamy tartness of the chèvre. “Oh my god. That is really good.”

“You should try the mini lox crostinis too. Just like a bagel from Saul’s. They have them over at that table,” she said pointing across the VIP area. She then set down her cocktail plate on the adjacent hightop table, the bright white of the plastic dish in stark contrast to the vibrant red of the tablecloth. “You look so handsome.” She smoothed the lapels on his waistcoat and adjusted his tie. "It’s always so nice seeing you outside work. I do wish you’d come over more often, and I promise I will not try to set you up with anymore of my friends’ eligible children.”

All he could offer her was a weak smile. His nerves were playing tennis in his stomach, or at least it felt that way, as it churned.

“You look petrified though. Something bothering you?”

He’d never told her of his hopeless feelings for Stiles, and so he could offer little in the way of an explanation now. Still, he’d spent so much time during the day thinking about what he would say if he managed to get his head out of his ass that he was fairly certain he had an answer for everything tonight. “There’s just someone I’m hoping to talk to tonight.”

“Oh, and would that be Stiles?”

“Um...what? How do you-”

“What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t notice the way you stared longingly out the shop whenever the choir started? Plus, you and Laura aren’t as quiet as you’d like to think you are when you talk.”

He looked down at his shoes, feeling like a chastened child. “Yeah, it’s Stiles. I’ve been trying to tell him how I felt for a long time now, and I chicken out every time. I’d love to tell you why, but I think worrying about whether he feels the same is only part of the reason.”

“Sweetheart, if he doesn’t, there’s not much you can do. Honestly, he’ll be all the worse for it if he doesn’t. Underneath all your gruff silence is a beautiful person that deserves the world.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She excused herself to go find his father, and he found himself wandering aimlessly through the crowd until a firm hand on his shoulder turned him around. Before he could react, he was pulled into a hug as Stiles’ excited voice filled the space around them. “I’m so happy to see you, man.” Stiles stepped back and gave his appearance a once over. “Look at you. Wow, that is a fantastic suit. You look, for lack of a better synonym, fantastic.”

“Thanks.” Derek’s mouth went dry at the sight of him, at the way the navy double breasted uniform jacket made his shoulders look even broader, if that were possible. “So do...so do you.”

“So, it took ages to find you in this mess, but we worked on a brand new song for tonight. It’s something a little different, more for a Happy New Year’s, but I think you’ll like it. Learning it was my idea.”

Stiles began to walk away, but Derek caught him on the elbow. “Hey, listen, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

With a warm and familiar smile, Stiles tapped him on the shoulder. “I have to finish warming up, but stick around after, and you’ll have my undivided attention. I promise.”

He nodded. “Break a leg.”

“Thanks.”

Derek watched him as he walked towards the stage, and when people began to filter into their seats, he sat, perched nervously on the edge of the velvet chair cushion, his foot bouncing off the floor until the opening bars of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ began.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from him as the concert played on, and by the time Stiles’ solo started in ‘O Holy Night,’ Derek found himself once more, moved to tears. He’d never been a spiritual man, never believed in a higher power, but hearing him sing tonight was, for Derek, a religious experience. The words mattered little to him, only the sublime honey timbre of that voice. He clutched his glass so tightly, he feared it might break, but holding it any lighter and his hands shook, the cider sloshing around in the glass.

Somewhere near the end of the song, Stiles caught him staring and gave him a wink. He almost fell off his chair.

Derek couldn’t say how long the show went on or how many breaths he took; if there were any other thoughts in his head, they flitted away. He’d never been more in a moment than he was right then.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” the choir leader, Sgt Reyes, addressed the crowd, “I’m pleased to announce that for the fourth year in a row, we’ve raised enough money to fully fund all the food shelters in town for the whole year. Thank you for your unwavering generosity. The last song we are going to sing for you tonight is something we’ve never performed in public before, but someone...one of our more intrepid members insisted we learn this one. He thought it was the perfect closing. So, if you hate it, I will be happy to provide his address and the eggs.”

Derek caught a, “Hey!” from Stiles and a feigned look of shock.

The song had a folksy sound and was not one he’d ever heard before. The lyrics sounded like everyone sharing in a kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve.

[ _“Should auld acquaintance be forgot, I’ll love you till the day I die. Should auld acquaintance be forgot, will you kiss me in the morning light?”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bvep2m2wNv0)

A lump rose in his throat with the realization that as the choir sang, Stiles was staring right at him like it was Derek’s own personal serenade. The song crescendoed near the end and the music filled the rafters. All around him, there were smiles that mirrored those on the singers’ faces, and it was beautiful the way so many in the crowd related to the words, but Derek could only see the earnest smile on Stiles’ face when the song ended.

_Oh please, let that be for me, only for me._

He was frozen in his seat for almost a minute after the concert came to a close, the bustling activity around him as concertgoers vacated their seats. He watched Stiles brush off several people complimenting him on his performance as he made a beeline for Derek.

Finally, when he felt his legs regain their strength, Derek stood, meeting him halfway.

“So,” Stiles said, wiping his hands on his pants, “what did you think?”

 _I love you_. That’s what he had meant to say. What came out was, “You have the most beautiful voice. If I could listen to you sing everyday, I would die a happy man.” Mentally, he cursed himself. There were so many ways those words could be interpreted, and most of them made him sound like a creepy stalker or serial killer.  _I love your voice, Stiles. I want to keep it in a box under my bed._

“Thanks,” but his tone wasn’t one of disgust, but one of a genuine gratitude. “Did you like the last song?”

He could only nod.

“Because it was for you, you know.”

Like a deer in the headlights, Derek stared at him, his heart hammering in his chest. “Really?”

“It was all for you.”

Derek licked his lips as he tried to find his courage. “How poetic.”

“Thanks. I stole it from a movie.”

He managed a knowing smirk. “I know. It’s not common knowledge, but I am sucker for Christmas movies. The sappier the better. Practically have  _Love Actually_  memorized.”

“Why Derek Hale, you are just full of wonderful surprises, and I’d like to learn them all.” Then, Stiles did something at that moment that Derek never expected.

He kissed him.

Soft, and endearing, mindful of where they were, surrounded by dozens of people. Knowing that his sentiments were returned, gave him the courage he’d lacked for so long. Derek pressed their foreheads together. “I have tried to tell you I love you for so long, but I never could.”

“I know. I could see it in your eyes, the way they’d crinkle when you liked something I said, when you’d watch me sing. I just figured that maybe you’d been hurt before and were too afraid to take the leap again. Though I haven’t been in the same boat as long as you have--I only realized it a few weeks ago, that I am madly in love with you--I think we want the same thing.”

Derek couldn’t help himself when he wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, nor could he help the blinding grin that started from the corners of his lips, pulling North until he knew there were little creases by his eyes and the apples of his cheeks began to hurt.

“I know it’s short notice, but would you like to have Christmas dinner with me?” Derek asked him. “You probably have plans with your dad, but-”

“Actually,” Stiles said, stopping his words with a kiss, “my dad and his girlfriend decided to go to Spain for Christmas. I’d love to.”

They held each other close for a while longer until Derek pulled out his phone to text his mother, that finally, he’d have a plus one for Christmas dinner.

When he woke in the morning, Stiles having fallen asleep on him while they marathoned cheesy holiday films, he found he’d never been happier as the sound of Stiles singing in the shower filled his once lonely and empty apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me on [tumblr](http://http://captaintinymite.tumblr.com/)


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